


this place isn't safe

by gacrux



Category: Chronicle (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gacrux/pseuds/gacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew's got a broken arm. Matt has no tact. Nobody likes hospitals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this place isn't safe

**Author's Note:**

> set probably a few years before the movie or something. just felt like writing them.

Once, Andrew comes to Matt's. He doesn't do it often because Matt's mother doesn't like him, gives him these indecipherable glares when he's around, but this time the visit is warranted. And secret – he comes at night, knocks on the basement window where Matt sleeps, and practically falls in when Matt opens it up.

 

“Christ, Andrew!” He whispers, catching the boy just before he faceplants the floor.

 

It's when he lets out a pained sob that Matt kind of figures something is really wrong. He holds Andrew back a little by the shoulders and looks him over, fast as he can. He's bruised as usual, the black eye has been pretty omnipresent since his mom was diagnosed, but he's holding his arm weird. Matt runs his hand down Andrew's sleeve and finds his suspicions confirmed. His wrist is broken, and Andrew's gusty whine is all he needs in answer.

 

“Alright, let's go.” He says, but Andrew shakes his head.

 

“No hospitals,” His cousin manages to bite out, leaning so hard on Matt that he has to guide them back to the sofa to sit down. Andrew goes with him, totally delirious with pain, and Matt realizes this is going to be a problem.

 

“Yes hospitals.” He retorts, folding Andrew's arm against his stomach so he doesn't jostle it. “Do you want this to heal properly or not? God damn it, your dad's an asshole.”

 

“No please, no hospitals. They know me. They know my mom. They _know_ me.” He replies, crying a little and clinging like a child. Matt frowns and tries to shove him away but Andrew's arm is right next to him, and the last thing Matt wants to do is make it worse. So he rubs his tired eyes and lets Andrew rest his forehead on his shoulder, feeling awkward and frustrated.

 

“I'll let you stay the night if you let me take you to the hospital?” He offers.

 

“Two nights.” Andrew whispers after a minute, staring at the window he just crawled through like he's not really seeing it.

 

“Alright. Two nights.” Matt agrees, because he'll feel guilty if he kicks Andrew to the curb now. His cousin is kind of weak as hell, physically and mentally. Not that Matt blames him for a second, but it's really hard to deal with sometimes. He feels bad every time he walks the other way when he sees Andrew, but sometimes it's just too much. Like now. Except he can't walk the other way, and Andrew's got a broken arm. “Fuck.” He whispers.

 

“I'd let you.” Andrew mutters, still staring vacantly out the window.

 

“What?” Matt looks down at him. His eyes are shuttered and his face is almost completely hidden, shaded by the dark of the room.

 

“I. Would. Let. You.” He repeats with emphasis, blinking just once.

 

“You'd let me wh-” Matt pauses. He thinks. “Oh, fuck no. Andrew, no. Why the fuck would – actually, no, I don't want to know. Jesus.” He scrubs a hand over his face and Andrew looks at him skeptically, like _he's_ the one who just announced he'd let his cousin screw him. 

 

 _Christ_.

 

  
“What's wrong with me?”

 

“Uh, do you want that as a list or an essay, man?” Matt jokes, then feels like an asshole. “I'm guessing you're in shock. Try not to think too hard about anything right now. Or ask anyone else if they want to-” He can't even say it. It's too bizarre. Andrew frowns like he's just asked him to solve the world's most challenging math problem and then drops his head back to Matt's shoulder.

 

“I feel fucking... gross.” Andrew mutters wearily.

 

“I know,” Matt sighs, leaning back onto the bed and taking Andrew with him. He's gotta sleep after all, they both do. They'll go to the hospital in the morning when it's open, Matt thinks, because Andrew would kill him if he called in an ambulance. “I know.”

 

Some time later when they're both on the edge of sleep, after Matt manages to find a tensor bandage to wrap Andrew's wrist up in for the time being, Andrew whispers back, “Do you?”

 

Matt doesn't answer because he's too tired, and because he knows that he doesn't know. Not really. Not like Andrew knows.

 

Never like Andrew knows.


End file.
